Bad For My Health
by mod-soul64
Summary: Gokudera has blurred the lines between friend and lover for Yamamoto, so what is their relationship, really? Told from Yamamoto's point of view. Characters intended to be the ages of 17-18. Civilian life AU.
1. Chapter 1

I love baseball, but, damn, I'm a bit of a masochist for doing so. Walking home from practice is a pain in, well, everywhere. My thighs and calves burn from running, and throb every time my foot hits the ground, my wrist is sore from pitching, and the straps of my duffel bag, with my bat, mitt, and school clothes inside, never fail to rub my shoulder raw when I carry it home. Not that it's heavy, it's just that there's no good way of carrying the damn thing. At least my house isn't too far away from school.

The suburban afternoon is fairly quiet, with the exception of a few younger kids playing outside while their mothers hang up laundry. I turn the corner and start down the next block, and despite my weary muscles, my mouth forms an automatic grin—the noise from the Sawada residence, at least six or seven houses down, can be heard from here.

As I near the building, I hear the door slam above the din of noise, and Gokudera steps out onto the sidewalk. I jog across the street to greet him, the straps of my duffel bag biting into one shoulder, dirty cleats, tied together by the ends of two laces, thumping against the other.

"Hi." I say a little bit breathlessly as I arrive, bending over and letting the duffel slip off my shoulder onto the sidewalk, trying to quiet my lower body's protests directed toward the prospect of more exertion. He looks up briefly from lighting a cigarette and gives me a nod, then takes a drag. I stand up to my full height again, watching the greenish pallor fade from his features as he smokes.

"Hey, you alright?"

He jerks his head toward the house behind him. "Yeah, just that my sister was in there."

"Ah." A loud crash erupts from the house, dwarfing all the former noise, and making us both jump a little. "Geez, you'd think all the neighbors would've moved away by now..." He shrugs and leans in front of me, heaving my duffel onto his shoulders. "C'mon, let's go."

"Hey, I can carry—"

"'S fine, I promise." I start to protest, but instead let out a little sigh and walk alongside him, readjusting my cap as I wipe some sweat from my forehead. The smoke from his cigarette lazily drifts toward my nostrils, and I wave it away as it approaches me.

"Those things are bad for your health, y'know. Smell gross, too."

He shoots me a look. "No shit. But I'm under a lot of stress, hanging with Tsuna and the loud-ass people he attracts. Dynamite can get a bit messy, so, if I had the chance, I'd pay Sasagawa to punch all of them in the face, even though I hate him, too."

"Even me?" He grins and jabs his cigarette in my direction. "Especially you."

"Aw, you just hate Bianchi."

"She knowingly fed me poisoned food when I was a kid! That's got to be some form of abuse!" I laugh, and despite the dirty look he tosses me, he still grins. "Well, Takeshi, you smell just as bad as my cigarettes, if not worse, so you've got that going for you."

"At least baseball's healthier." I smirk as I put my arms behind my head, leaning over so he can get a better whiff of my B.O. He grimaces and jogs ahead, dropping my bag at his feet as he reaches my house. He reclines against the cement gate as he waits for me to catch up, and I, not wanting to jog, take my time doing so.

When I reach him, I toss my cleats inside the yard and nudge my bag in after, then take a moment to lean against the gate next to Gokudera and inhale the secondhand smoke—it may be unhealthy, but I'm getting used to the feeling, the smell. He finishes the cigarette and steps into the street to grind down the remains with his heel, then comes back to the gate, fingering the pack in his pocket and pondering whether to light another. He looks the other way, towards the setting sun, then back at me as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.

"I'll come by in the morning, same time as always, okay?"

"Yeah, see you then." I murmur as I lean in and brush my lips against his, which taste like the scent of his cigarettes, as always.

Some guys fist-bump, others man-hug.

Gokudera and I, we kiss.

He started it shortly after we first met, which, believe me, was really awkward, and I thought it was just some weird foreigner thing at first, but no, it turned out he was just kissing me. I asked him about it, and he said it just felt like the right thing to do. And it still does, I don't know why, but it does. We're not dating or anything, but sometimes it feels like we're more than friends.

We just kinda...are.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, guys, this rating of this story comes into play in this chapter. Just warning you ahead of time.**

**What's a kotatsu?: .org/wiki/Kotatsu**

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><p>I have a rule when it comes to doing homework—well, it's basically common sense, but still, if you've lost track of time trying to figure out one problem, you might need some help. I look up from my dizzying pre-calculus worksheet and pull my phone out of my pocket, punching in memorized numbers. Gokudera picks up on the second ring.<p>

"Hey, what's up?"

"I don't know how math works...help me?" He laughs as I groan.

"Alright, I'll help you if you help me with translations." This time, I laugh at him.

"Oh, so the bilingual guy needs help with translating? Well, I'll be damned."

"Fuck you, Takeshi," he says, even though I can hear him smirking. "I'll be over in a few." He hangs up and I stuff my phone back in my pocket, picking up my pencil again to doodle in the margins of my worksheet until he arrives. It takes him longer than usual, which annoys me (and makes me a little nervous, but I try to ignore that feeling) until he arrives and I finally notice that it was snowing outside.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"

"Don't worry, 's fine, I like snow." he says as he brushes flakes off his jacket and out of his hair. He sheds his coat and shoes, and steps into the kitchen to say hello to my mom before coming back into the living room and pressing his palms against my cheeks and thrusting his tongue into my mouth, all of which are varying degrees of cold. So cold, in fact, that I almost jump away when he touches me. He tastes less like smoke, as he cuts back on cigarettes during the winter—doesn't want to open the window, or go outside in this weather.

"Sorry," he exhales sharply when he pulls away, "but it's cold outside." I nod and we head back to the kotatsu, our legs becoming tangled up as we try to burrow underneath the blankets at the same time. We laugh and settle into a game of footsie before remembering that he came over to help me with my homework.

"So..." he starts as he looks between my notebook and worksheet, both of which are rather empty. "Were you even paying attention to what our teacher was talking about?"

"Uh, well, I might've dozed off when he talked about this, I don't really remember..." He rolls his eyes as he reaches across the table and pulls the two objects over.

"I'll write down the formulas for you, and then you can try working on your homework."

"Okay. What're your translation issues?"

"I...don't know where my textbook is?" he offers with a little shrug. I sigh and pull the book out of my backpack, sliding it across the table toward him.

"That's your only problem? Why can't you be tired, or lazy, or somewhat slow, like the rest of us?"

"If I was, you'd be helpless."

I roll my eyes and direct a kick at his shin under the table. "Smartass."

There aren't many moments in life when flipping a piece of paper over is fulfilling, but reaching the other side of a math worksheet makes up about 90% of those moments, especially when you started on the more difficult side of the paper. I raise up my arms triumphantly after I flip over the hellish worksheet, Gokudera offering nods of praise and encouragement from across the table. He had finished his homework, and kept insisting that letting me copy his answers wouldn't help me, so I was on my own, and I only asked for help once so far, so my confidence was pretty high when I got to the supposedly easier side.

As I resume working, Gokudera starts muttering as he fiddles with a corner of the kotatsu's blanket. "I wonder what it'd feel like to have your cock sucked under one of these..."

I look up, almost positive I misheard him. "I'm sorry, _what?_"

He looks up at me, and I can't tell if he's joking or serious. "I wonder what it'd feel like to have your cock sucked underneath one of these things. I mean, it feels so nice with the heat already, so, if you were hard..."

I shrug and glance at my homework. "Never tried it... Hell, I've never had anyone suck my dick in the first place..."

"Neither have I! It could be a learning experience. Want to try?"

I stare at my homework for a moment before realizing it won't give me any support, then I look up and offer him a little shrug. "Uh, sure?"

He returns the shrug with a giddy uncertainty before sliding underneath the blankets and table, somehow managing to contort himself so that all of his body fits underneath. The instant after he slides under, I feel his hands on my crotch, and god, brain, what a good time to wonder if I really want a guy's mouth around my dick! Does it really matter if the person sucking my dick has a dick as well? Christ, my mind needs to stop being so shallow. Genitals come with bodies, bodies come with heads, and those heads tend to have personalities. I enjoy Gokudera's personality. Case closed.

His fingers fumble slightly as they undo the button and zipper of my jeans, but I realize that it's dark under the table, and his gentle nervousness helps me relax a bit. He tugs my jeans down past my hips, and his fingertips are coarse as they graze my skin as they pull my boxers down, too. A surge of embarrassment, or nervousness, or maybe both, starts to well up, but again, I remember that he can't see in the dark—but he should be able to feel perfectly. What if I'm... inadequate? I mean, I don't think I'm tiny or anything, but, oh, god, he's touching my balls. Not just touching, but full on _massaging_ them. Goddamn, that feels good, so good that it encourages a small groan to escape from my throat. This catches me off-guard, since I don't usually make noise when I masturbate, but, goddamn, Gokudera's fingers deserve praise.

He presses his mouth to my thigh and starts licking and nipping at my skin, all the while still keeping the title of World's Best Ball Massager, no doubt encouraged by the growing amount of noise coming from my throat. His lips travel upward to gnaw on my hip, and with a few more squeezes, his massaging skills have succeeded in making me hard. He runs his fingers along my dick from base to tip, then his tongue, saliva mixing with the slight amount of perspiration on my skin.

Guiding my erection with his hand, he slides most of me into his mouth, gagging slightly as he tries to fit all of me inside. He awkwardly stays like this for a moment, then pulls away, his teeth comfortably grazing my skin as he does so. He starts licking the length of my erection again, and then slides his mouth around the tip of my penis, alternating between gently gnawing on, and sliding his tongue around me. The contrast in texture between his chapped lips and my softer skin feels… nice. It's not as awkward as before, when he had all of me in his mouth, but still feels kinda weird. Nice, but weird.

"Takeshi?"

My mom's voice makes both of us jump, and Gokudera freaking _bites __my __dick_, then knocks his head against the table with a dull thud as he pulls away. I fail at holding in a groan as I wince, and open my eyes, rising up to a sitting position after I notice that I was practically laying on the floor. Blinking hard, I manage to look up at my mom's concerned expression.

"H-hey, what's up?"

"Oh, honey, are you feeling okay?" She takes a step toward me, "You're all flushed."

"NO. I mean, yeah, I feel fine, don't worry." I struggle to keep my voice even as Gokudera tenderly pokes and prods the spot where he bit me. My mom frowns.

"If you say so... Is your friend still here?"

"Uh, yeah." I glance at the blanket covering my lap. "He's in the bathroom." Gokudera starts to lick and kiss my wound, and resumes the role of testicle masseuse, too, the bastard. A ghost of a whimper slides past my lips, and I can feel him grin. If he makes me come right now, I swear to God...

"When he comes back, ask him if he'd like to stay for dinner. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure, okay." She gives me another concerned look, then sighs and heads back toward the kitchen.

As soon as she's out of sight, I exhale and thrust my hands under the blanket, working my fingers into Gokudera's silver hair, and he comes after me with more of a ferocity, working only with his tongue this time. When I come, my release is relaxed, steady, and I lie back on the floor, relieved as the pressure fades away.

Gokudera is bright red as he crawls out from underneath the table, unable to wipe the grin from his face. "Well," he begins after a moment, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, "it turns out you tested negative for steroids. Congratulations!"

Pulling up my jeans, I sit up and hiss, "You bit my dick!" across the table, and I kick him as he suppresses a laugh.

"Okay, yeah, I did do that, but then I made you feel much better." I roll my eyes and push my worksheet towards him, which he starts to fill in. "You owe me a blowjob now, just so you know. Oh, and I would love to stay for dinner!"


	3. Chapter 3

"It's fucking hot outside."

"Door should be unlocked." His call clicks off and I open my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I climb out of bed. I snatch up a pair of cargo shorts from my bedroom floor and slip into them, zipping up my fly as I jog downstairs. Gokudera, standing in the entryway, raises an eyebrow as he kicks off his sandals.

"Did I wake you up?" he asks as I lean in to greet him, his teeth tugging at my lower lip. He smells faintly of smoke and sweat.

"Nah," I answer as he pulls away, "just didn't feel like getting out of bed till now."

My stomach adds in a little growl, and we both head into the kitchen towards the refrigerator. I grab a plate of leftover omelet and rice and pop it into the microwave as he rummages around in the back of the fridge, finally pulling out a can of beer. My dad drinks more in the summer, but he never keeps a tab on how much he has in the house at one time. I don't drink on my own—I just share a can with Gokudera whenever he has one, which isn't too often, either.

The microwave pings, and I take the plate out, balancing it precariously on my fingertips out of habit, in case it's too hot, but it's just warm. Shifting the dish into my palm, I grab a set of chopsticks out of a nearby drawer, then head upstairs, Gokudera trailing behind me. I sit on the floor and lean against my bed, and I begin to eat my breakfast. My friend stays standing for a moment to pull his loose tank off, tossing it on top my pile of laundry in the corner. He settles down next to me, opens his can with a satisfying crack, and takes a sip of beer.

Our thighs touch.

We sit in silence, eating, drinking, listening to my fan creak as it oscillates. It's not awkward, really—it's actually kinda relaxing, being together, but on our own at the same time, too. I finish eating and put my place behind us on my bed, washing down my food when Gokudera hands me the beer can. I hand the can back and look over at him as he runs a hand through his hair. I'm not very preoccupied with appearances, but I've gotta admit, Gokudera is definitely the type of guy who would catch your eye on the street. Especially in the summer—his Italian and Asian roots give him one of the richest tans I've ever seen. Various scars stand out more than usual, they still manage to compliment him well. It's pretty damn handsome. His tan even looks nice with his odd dye job. He insists his haircolor is natural, but I'm not so sure—maybe he was born blond, and all that cigarette smoke turned his hair grey. Who knows. His body hair is a darker black, like my own, but is thicker, maybe even softer. It tapers off at his wrists and ankles, trails down from his bellybutton, and still isn't quite even across his chest, but it suits him nonetheless. Our body types are both pretty similar, though. Arm and leg muscles more ropey than bulky, pecs and abs nicely defined, lean.

"Hey, Takeshi, you want the rest of this?" I give a little start and look up at Gokudera, who's half-grinning at me with a look that's expectant and amused. He offers me the beer can, swirling the remaining liquid around.

"Oh, yeah, sure." I say and take the beer, downing the rest of it with a cough. Crushing the can, I stand up and pick up my plate.

"I'll go put these downstairs, be right back."

"Uh, okay?" he offers in a slightly confused tone as I walk out and head back down to the kitchen. I toss my plate in the sink and the can in the recycling, leaning against the counter as I slowly exhale. Goddamn. I'm usually not this awkward. It's just...weird. Gokudera's my friend, and before he came along, I used to pay attention to girls, for the most part. And, well, now I mostly pay attention to him-granted, after a guy gives you a blowjob, it's kinda hard to ignore him when you see and hang out with him often. He's not pressuring me to do anything, either-and I probably wouldn't turn him down he asked me to do something, because I'd like to—I'm curious. The idea in itself is fine, but the idea of me acting upon those ideas freaks me out a little bit. It confuses me, makes me anxious. I sigh and shake my head, grab two popsicles from the freezer, and head back upstairs. Gokudera has turned off my fan and opened the window, and is sitting cross-legged on my bed. It's less cool in my room than it was when I left, but is still pleasant. I sit down next to Gokudera, and he thanks me when I hand him a popsicle.

"So," he starts after he frees his blue popsicle from its wrapper, "you're acting kinda weird today. What gives?" I shrug as I lick my popsicle, trying to ignore the inquisitive look he gives me.

"I don't know, it's just—well—are you gay?"

He raises his eyebrows and seems entertained by my question.

"If I had to name my sexuality, I suppose it'd be that. What about you?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." He hands me his popsicle and stands up in front of me.

"You know what a naked girl looks like, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, imagine that..." He pauses and undoes his shorts, pulling them down along with his boxers. "and then look at me. Which do you prefer?" I swallow hard, raising my eyes up to his.

I speak with measured tones: "I don't want girls. I don't want guys. I just want you."

"And that's bad because...?" He takes his popsicle and sits back down, giving me a concerned look.

"It's not bad at all—I just wish the answer was a bit more clear."

"I don't want to be forcing myself on you if you're not sure you want it."

"Oh, no, I want it." I laugh as I run a hand through my hair. "It's just—I don't know. Whatever. I'll deal." He nods and leans back against the wall, and I, as I lick my popsicle, find myself staring at him again. He smirks and gestures at his genitals.

"Want to suck on this instead?"

I grin back.

"I think so. Is it cherry-flavored, too?"

"That's not supposed to be a jab at my virginity, is it?"

"Nah, 'course not."

I get up and throw our popsicle sticks in the trash can under my desk, then head back to my bed, taking my shorts and boxers off before I sit down again. Gokudera leans over and starts kissing my neck, his lips sticky against my skin. One of his hands curls around my bicep, the other sliding down my torso and on to fondle my balls. Goddamn, he knows me well.

His lips slide up and across my jaw line to meet my own, and he gives me a hard squeeze as our kiss turns violent with teeth and tongues, urging a moan out of me. I reach down and grab his junk, giving him a rough tug out of spite. He inhales sharply and stares at me, incredulous, but all I can do is grin and laugh in response. We mess with each other until we're both hard, and I press my hand against his chest and push him back. I slide on top of my bed and he follows…except he nearly kicks my jaw as he does so. I look down at him; his head is between my thighs.

"Wait, I—"

"Dude, it'll make both of us feel good. Don't worry about it."

I swallow and attempt the smother the hint of anxiety in my stomach. "Okay."

He then deep-throats me, and a groan rises from my vocal cords. I lean forward and thrust my tongue out, gingerly running it over the tip of his penis. His skin is warm, salty. I put his tip in my mouth—he's firm and smooth, and then take his length in, gagging as he reaches the back of my throat. I bob my head up and down—no, that feels awkward. I pull away, then lean back in, this time running my tongue over his dick, lifting my hand so it rests on his hip. He bites me. I give his tip a little nip back, then close my eyes as I kiss down his shaft and up again. I feel a surge in my abdomen and his fingernails dig into my thighs, then, suddenly, stroke my asshole. I jerk away as I come, spilling on my sheets as I sit up. I plant my foot in his stomach and shove him off the bed.

"Dude, what the hell?" he asks me angrily from his spot on the floor, hands up, his erection limp now, his eyebrows raised.

"No, you! What the hell was that? That's just gross, man!" I fire back at him, my face contorted into the same expression of confusion and anger he's wearing. "Don't fucking touch me there!"

"Okay, okay, geez…" He stands up and runs a hand through his hair. "I won't do it next time."

"I don't think—" I sigh and look away, folding my arms over my knees and burning a hole into the drywall with my stare before closing my eyes. "Look, just leave. Please."

I hear him hesitate, then rustling as he pulls his clothes back on.

"Sorry." He spits the word out before stomping downstairs, the two syllables making the air in my room stagnant and heavy.

But…it's okay for me to not want that. I wasn't ready for him—or anyone—to do that to me.

So why do I feel so damn guilty?


	4. Chapter 4

"Your change is 27 yen. Have a nice day!"

"Thanks, you too." I smile as the cashier hands me the coins and receipt, putting them in the pocket of my cargo shorts. I pick up the bottle of green tea on the counter and head back outside into the humid weather, pressing the cool condensation on the plastic against my forehead before opening the bottle and taking a drink. Gokudera stands across the sidewalk leaning against a streetlight wearing a shirt with a foreign phrase on it, and baggy shorts, his hair pulled back in a messy, miniature ponytail.

He's smoking.

I glance at him, eyebrows raised, then look away as I start walking.

"Are you stalking me?"

He stands up and drops the cigarette, grinding it out with the toe of his shoe before following me down the block.

"Not entirely. You had a great game last night."

I breathe a laugh at his mention of the baseball game.

_Scored four runs. We won. _

" Yeah, only 'cause I didn't see you were there until the last inning. Any earlier and I would've been too creeped out to play well."

"I'm not trying to be creepy, honest. I just want to talk to you."

My grip tightens on the bottle. I walk faster.

"I don't want to talk about what happened, okay?"

"Neither do I! Takeshi, I called you every day for the past week. Please, just let me apologize properly..."

I keep walking, but then finally sigh and turn to him. "Fine. Go ahead."

"Look, I can't even begin to describe how bad I feel about what happened last week. I should've asked you first before I did anything, and I'm really sorry that I didn't. I really am. But I still want to be friends with you. That's what's important to me. So, if you can, please try to forgive me." He bends over at the waist and claps his hands together, hanging his head as he bows. He glances up once or twice, biting his lip before looking back down at the cracked sidewalk.

I exhale and run a hand through my hair, then look back at him, defeated.

"...Okay, just stop bowing, will you? It makes you look just a little too pitiful."

He grins and straightens up quickly. I rock back and forth on my heels for a moment.

" Well...I suppose I'll accept it." I smile and glance away for a second, then look back at him. "I kind of overreacted, and I should apologize for that, too. I was confused."

Gokudera shakes his head. "No, don't, it's understandable. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with us before I asked you about something else."

"Oh? And that would be...?"

"Well, my family has a home in Italy, and I was going to visit for a few days. Do you want to come with?"

"Oh, wow, Gokudera, that's really generous of you, but… I just don't have the money."

"Don't worry about the money, I can cover it."

I grin and reach over, tapping him upside the head. "Now that sounds shady."

He smiles and rolls his eyes. "Seriously, though, money's not an issue. Do you have a passport?"

"Yeah, we went on vacation in America a few years ago."

"Awesome. I'll call you later with more details, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try to remember that I should pick it up this time." I grin, and he laughs, squeezing my shoulder.

"Hope you do. Talk to you later."

"Yeah."

He turns around and walks back up the block. I watch him for a moment before continuing on to my house.

_Italy, huh? This will be interesting._

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry folks, this chapter is quite short, but I needed to get to the next part of this story somehow. Can't say it'll be coming any time soon-I'm hoping for the end of Mayearly June. The length of the next chapter will definitely make up for it, I promise. Paris may be the city of love, but who knows, something might just happen on the boys' vacation... ;)**_  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

**When I said I'd make up for the shortness of chapter 4, I didn't envision practically doubling the length of this fic with chapter 5. But it happened, and you guys deserve an award for being so patient. Thank you.**

**Also, to clear up possible confusion, my view is that Gokudera's mom is Japanese, and his dad is Italian. Have fun reading!**

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><p>"Wow."<p>

Gokudera stands next to me on the sidewalk, the white columns of his home reflected in the shades of his aviators.

"Yeah, I guess that works."

"You guess? Dude, you live in a freaking mansion! You are _loaded_! How the hell did you end up in a public high school in Japan?"

"Personal preference."

"Some kind of preference you have..."

He shrugs with a smile.

"My parents would prefer if I went to a private school, but public school kids are much more friendly and a whole lot less judgmental. Definitely my kind of people."

"Except your name has like, six more zeroes on the end than everyone else's."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You didn't know I was rich until last week. Doesn't change anything, does it?"

"Not really, except I wouldn't mind getting a nice birthday present from you now..."

He laughs.

"I'm already taking you on vacation, Takeshi. What else could you want?"

"You could always pay for my college education."

He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and grins. "We'll see about that."

I look at his clothing—maroon dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black skinny jeans, a number of rings on his fingers—then at my own t-shirt and shorts.

"Damn, I feel underdressed—and, aren't you going to be hot wearing that?"

"Hot, maybe, but I like looking good when I'm in Europe. I guess I just can't avoid it. You're more of the tourist than I am, you look fine."

He places his hand on my back and turns me away from the house, and we walk over to the dark sedan on the driveway. I slip past the man holding the door open, and Gokudera enters on the other side.

The door closes.

"Butlers? Really?"

"He's a chauffeur. It's different."

"It's weird."

"He doesn't have to do it, then." Gokudera leans forward and says something to the driver, then settles back in his seat.

"Wait, I didn't—"

"Takeshi, it's fine, really. I don't like being treated like I am rich, even if it's true. I mean, why do you think I spend all my time in Japan? Just because I have luxury doesn't mean I need to use it. Besides, we don't want you going home and expecting to be treated like a prince, now do we?"

"That's true," I mumble as I glance out the window.

He smiles.

"Don't worry about it. The only nice treatment you're getting is the car ride. We're walking and taking stuffy, tourist-filled buses everywhere else, I promise."

"Seriously?"

The car slows to a stop, and I step out into a hotel parking lot filled with, well, tourists and charter buses. Gokudera grins.

"Seriously."

"I'm not sure whether this is a good or bad thing."

"Hopefully it'll be good. If not, well, you'll just have more to talk about when you get home."

"Oh, boy..."

I follow him into the lobby and look at the travel brochures, trying to pick out recognizable English words as he talks to the concierge. He walks back and hands me a ticket.

"That's for the bus. The tour we're going on today is mostly of churches and monuments. I don't know how much you know about Christianity, but the history's cool, and they're nice to look at, too."

"If you'll translate for me, I'm sure it'll be okay. You sure you won't be bored?"

"Oh, not at all. I may be Italian, rich too, but I've never gotten to actually visit the historical places."

"Really?"

Gokudera shrugs.

"Yeah. I may not act like it now, but I was a spoiled brat when I was younger. Didn't give a shit about culture."

He pauses and backpedals, and steps up into an air-conditioned bus. The driver looks at our tickets, then says hello in English. I smile at him, then sit next to Gokudera in the middle of the bus. The floor is carpeted, the seats faux leather, but not uncomfortable.

"So, what changed your mind? About culture and history and stuff like that."

"My dad went to Japan when I was twelve, and he gave me a book about Shintoism when he came back. I read it just to spite him, but I actually loved learning about it all. Told him to get me a language tutor and three years later, I moved there. Around a month ago, I decided I'd come back here and give Italy a chance. I don't remember much, except for stuff that I learned in grade school, but I'm willing to learn."

"That's cool, man. And a little ironic, since I'm not the most religious of guys."

The bus driver stands up and starts to speak, and I notice a lot more people have gotten on the bus since Gokudera started talking.

"Hey, what's he saying?"

"Hold up, he's still talking in English. Okay, um, the drive to Rome will be around an hour long, and we'll meet up with our tour guide when we get there. We'll walk around for a while, then have a hour-long break for lunch, then we'll meet up again, tour more, then we'll head back to the bus at seven o'clock and be back here by eight, more or less."

"Okay, sounds good."

"Mmhm."

The bus driver heads back to his seat and starts to work his way out of the crowded parking lot. Gokudera slides his sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing faint, yet dark circles under his eyes.

"You sleep okay last night?"

"Not as well as you did, evidently, considering you weren't shocked by my house until this morning."

"I thought we might've been stopping over at a hotel or something. I was just really tired, okay?"

He smiles and rolls his eyes.

"First time you've ever been to Europe and you don't have jetlag. Fuck you, Takeshi."

I shrug and grin.

"Maybe that means you should take me out of the country more often."

"I'll end up missing Japan more than you would if I did that."

"Heh, it wouldn't surprise me."

His smile has just enough sadness in it for me to notice. A silence settles into our conversation. I look out the window and watch the countryside pass by. It reminds me of the time I traveled up to Hokkaido for a class trip—but the fields here are richer, warmer, and just a hint more earthy.

"So...what does your dad do for a living, anyways?"

"I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that he made a few good investments and that he owns a few companies. My mom is connected to a few tech giants in Japan, too. But that's where all the money comes from, as far as I know."

"You don't seem very close to them."

"Yeah, I'm not. I mean, they're nice people, but a little distant. They weren't around very often when I was young, and they had a bunch of high expectations for me. It didn't really work out, but we still talk every once in a while, so I guess we're okay."

"Makes sense, why you'd move to Japan. Everyone's so much physically closer, in apartments and houses especially, unlike your huge mansion."

"Hm, maybe." He looks at me with an eyebrow raised, insinuating the idea just a little bit, then closes his eyes and leans his head against my shoulder. "Wake me up when we get there."

"I'll try."

My eyes linger on him for a moment, then return to watching the scenery flicker by.

The bus sidles up to the curb of the cobbled road, and I go to touch Gokudera's shoulder.

"Hey, Goukde—oh. You're awake."

He nods as he stifles a yawn.

"Mm, yeah." He pinches the bridge of his nose, then gives me a look. "You're gonna get off the bus, right?"

"Well, yeah, I was just making sure you were awake."

I stand up and head out onto the sidewalk with the rest of the group, and Gokudera steps off the bus a few seconds later, tying his hair back. A man with a name badge walks up to the group and starts talking.

"Is he our tour guide?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Just making sure..."

Our group starts walking. Gokudera and I linger at the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him slip his sunglasses back on.

"Okay, so, he's talking about the history of this marketplace," I watch the guide gesture to the vendors lining the streets. "and how famous Romans used to lecture and protest here."

"You make it sound so interesting."

"There also were a lot of pickpockets around, back in the day." he says as he leans forward and presses his palm against the wallet in my back pocket. I narrow my eyes at him. He smiles slightly and moves his hand away.

We follow the guide down the road for a few blocks, then arrive at the Colosseum.

"Construction started in 72 AD—that means after Jesus's death—and was finished eight years later. The Colosseum could hold up to 50,000 spectators, and was a center of entertainment where people could watch fights between gladiators, as well as mock battles and reenactments. It got damaged because of earthquakes and robberies, but it's still one of the most famous places in Rome today."

"Cool..."

My fingertips trail across the side of one of the stone archways as we pass underneath and enter the ancient arena.

"Gladiators were considered to be of a lower class, though, almost slaves, and weren't treated with much respect. But after a few centuries, the sport died out. Damn, I'd rather be a samurai."

"Heh, yeah. A soldier still, but at least you'd have your dignity."

"And you'd be a badass, too."

"Gokudera, has anyone ever told you that you're a nerd?"

He smiles.

"You have. But I think it's a compliment, so thanks."

"Yeah, sure. Keep translating."

"Okay, looks like we'll be visiting some baths, next..."

"This looks like a good place to eat." Gokudera places his hand on the back of a wrought-iron chair. "Don't you think?"

"Yeah, sure."

I sit down at the table as he calls a waitress over, chatting with her in Italian. She pours two glasses of water and hands us menus, then walks away. I open the menu and look over the letters for a moment, then close it again.

"You know, Gokudera, go ahead and order for me."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it'd take too long to translate everything."

"Okay, it's your decision."

"...You better not order something gross."

Gokudera pushes his sunglasses up and smirks.

"You're just gonna have to trust my judgment, Takeshi. But we don't really eat anything weird here, unlike some of the crazy shit you have in Japan."

"Japanese cuisine isn't that bad."

"Dude. Turtles. Sharks. Blowfish that could kill you when _they're_ dead. What the fuck were you guys thinking?"

"Hey, I haven't tried any of that stuff." I pause and take a drink of water. "And I thought you liked Japan, too..."

"Well, if you haven't tried it, that means you know how crazy it is, don't you?"

"Maybe."

"That's what I thought."

The waitress comes back and they start talking again. Gokudera hands her our menus, makes a comment, and winks at her. She laughs and walks away, a new swing in her hips. He watches her go, then turns back to me.

"What?"

"What?"

"You're giving me a look."

I raise an eyebrow.

"I am?"

"Uh, yeah, you are."

"I didn't realize."

"Uh huh, sure. I'm allowed to flirt, you know."

"I never said you weren't!"

"Just sayin'. Well, excuse me for a moment, I have to use the restroom."

He stands up and walks away, leaving me to watch the pigeons poke around for crumbs in the street.

_Of course he's allowed to flirt. Not like we're together or anything. Hell, he can do whatever he wants. Maybe he's having a quickie with that waitress right now. _

I run a hand through my hair and peek back at the restaurant.

_Hopefully not. _

A waiter walks up to the table and puts a salad in front of me, and another in front of Gokudera's seat. I mutter my thanks in English and pick up my fork, pushing around the leaves of lettuce as I wait.

Gokudera comes back and sits down.

"You like it?"

"Oh, I was waiting for you to come back." I say as I look up and shove a forkful of salad into my mouth.

"So?"

I hold up a finger as I chew, then swallow.

"It's...interesting."

"Interesting good, or interesting bad?"

"Good. It's fresh, but kind of savory at the same time, if that makes sense."

"Yeah, I can see that. Glad you like it." He takes a bite of his salad. "Caesar's my favorite "

I nod and continue eating.

"Oh, crap, are you okay eating with a fork?"

"Oh, yeah, I've used them before. It's cool."

"Okay, good."

As we finish up, the waitress comes out with our entrees and sets them down on the table, then goes to attend to another couple. I look down at the dish.

" What'd you get me?"

"Steak gorgonzola. Basically, noodles, beef, cheese, and sauce, but Western."

I take a bite, chewing slowly to take in all the flavors.

"It's good."

"Good."

"What'd you get?"

"Oh, it's baked ravioli. Pasta stuffed with meat, then coated with breadcrumbs. Want to try one?"

"Oh, uh, sure." I reach over and stab a ravioli, and Gokudera steals a forkful of pasta from my plate. He smiles and shrugs.

"It's only fair."

"It's fine."

I pop the ravioli into my mouth.

"Mm, this is good."

"So is yours. Want to switch? I mean, I didn't really know what you wanted, so it's fine if you want to."

"No, it's fine. Unless you want to switch. I'm cool with that."

He smiles.

"Might as well just keep my own, or we won't be able to decide."

"Heh, alright."

Our conversation drifts away as we continue eating. I finish up quickly and down the rest of my water. Gokudera eyes me from across the table.

"Going somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah, actually. Saw a person selling some stuff that I want to check out."

"I can pay the check really quick and come help you communicate, if you want."

"Nah, it's okay, I think my broken English will work fine, and I exchanged my money at the airport, too."

I stand up and he raises an eyebrow.

"If you say so."

"I'll be back soon."

"Okay, see you."

I walk down the block, sneak around a group of tourists, and turn the corner, then jog down to a vendor I saw earlier. I take a breath and look at the owner.

"Herro."

She smiles back at me. I look down and sort through the jewelry on her counter until I find a few rings. I try them to check their size, then pick out three that I like the best.

"Dees?"

"Ah, two."

She holds up two fingers, and I take my wallet out and give her a coin, then put the wallet and rings back in my pockets.

"Sankyu!"

She nods, and I walk back to the café. Gokudera stands outside smoking a cigarette, his sunglasses back on.

"You get anything?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see?"

I smile.

"Later."

"Alright, let's go find our group."

We walk down the street and run into the mob of tourists again.

"Why are all these people here?"

"Oh, the Trevi Fountain's up ahead."

"Trevi Fountain?"

"Oh, there's this myth that if you throw a coin in the fountain, you're guaranteed to come back someday. Want to try it?"

"Sure." I take a coin out of my wallet. "Getting down there's going to be a pain, though."

"Dude, you're a pitcher. Couldn't you toss one in from up here?"

I stand up on top of a bench and squint at the fountain.

"I can try."

"Don't hit anyone."

I palm the coin for a moment, then wind up and pitch it straight into the water, making a large spray of water, as well as a loud splash. A group of tourists turns toward me, and I quickly step off the bench and look away, Gokudera cracking up.

"Oh, man, that was great!"

"You made me do it."

"Chill, Takeshi, it's not like you hit anyone." He looks back toward the fountain. "I think."

I shake my head and try to hold back a grin.

"Whatever. Let's just go find our group already."

At eight o'clock, the bus pulls into the hotel parking lot and drops us off in front of the lobby. The sky is darkening, tinged red with the leftover glow of the sunset.

Gokudera slips his sunglasses into his shirt pocket, then looks at me.

"You hungry? Tired?"

"Actually, I'm not."

"Well, we can knock around town for a while and get something later when we're back at the house, if that sounds okay."

"Yeah, that'll work."

"Cool."

We walk down a few blocks, checking out the people and scenery, then stop outside a building, its sign illuminated, its look sleek, polished. People stand in a line outside, waiting to be let in.

"Is this a nightclub?"

"You guessed right. Want to go inside?"

"Looks like we'd have to wait a while. Besides, I've never been in a nightclub before." "

Oh, I know the guy who owns the place, I'm sure we can get in pretty easily. Basically, there's music, dancing, drinks...it'll be fun."

"It's...not a gay bar, is it?"

Gokudera laughs, then tries to hold it in, grinning.

"No, it's not, but we could always go find one, if you want to."

"NO. No."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Stop laughing, it's a perfectly normal question to ask."

He shakes his head and walks away to go talk with the bouncer, then calls me over a few minutes later. The bouncer lets us inside, rousing a few shouts from the crowd before the door closes again.

The club is mostly dark, with the exception of the lights on the dance floor and the illuminated bar.

"You want something to drink?"

"Water, or Coke."

"Dude, it's legal for you to drink here, you know."

"It is? Either way, I'm not a huge fan of alcohol."

"Whatever."

Gokudera shrugs and walks off toward the bar. I watch the people dancing, pressed up against each other as the music pulses throughout the room.

"Interesting to watch, huh?"

I take the can of Coke from Gokudera and swallow some, the carbonation tickling the back of my throat.

"It looks like they're having sex."

"Grinding for the most part, but yeah, I bet some of them are."

"Seriously? Why?"

"Hell if I know. Too worked up to get back to a hotel, I suppose."

"And the people in charge don't care?"

"I guess everyone just gets used to the idea after a while. But the dancing itself is fun."

"It is?"

"Yeah, it is. C'mon." He puts his drink down on a nearby table and looks back at me expectantly. "Takeshi..."

I sigh and set my drink down, following him out to the dance floor.

"Okay, so, what do I do?"

Gokudera leans back against me.

"Start moving your hips—christ, no, don't thrust—well—okay, yeah, back and forth, good. Now, to the music—good." My hands settle on his hips, his bones against my palms, and his hands rest on top of my own.

His ass is pressed up against my crotch and, fuck, it's really warm... And the nape of his neck looks, well, delicious from my point of view... Okay, maybe I can see why some guys get worked up when dancing like this.

_Damn..._

Some guy at the bar starts yelling, and Gokudera shouts something back, then turns toward me.

"What's his issue?"

He rolls his eyes.

"To put it nicely, he'd like my boyfriend and I to leave."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Boyfriend?"

"His words. But maybe we should leave. I don't want to start something." He looks down at my hand, which is still on his waist, then back up at me. I glance at the guy at the bar, then look back at Gokudera.

_Oh, fuck it. _

I press close and kiss him, showing the guy a great view of my middle finger with my free hand, and Gokudera kisses back, just for a moment until we break away and speed out the door and down the block.

"Slow down, Takeshi, I need to breathe!"

Gokudera collapses onto a bench, gasping for air, still laughing.

I grin and sit down next to him.

"Maybe you'd be able to breathe if you didn't smoke."

"Sorry, but I'm proud of my vices."

I shrug.

"Suit yourself."

He smiles.

"So, what was that kiss about?"

"Um, I'm bad at resisting temptation?"

He leans over and kisses me, and I kiss back this time with tongue, pulling him close and holding him there until I need to breathe.

Gokudera leans back, his eyes closed, grinning as I watch the rise and fall of his chest.

"Good to have you back, Takeshi."

I smile back at him and run a hand through my hair.

"At least I can kiss you here without feeling self-conscious."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He stands up. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

"Okay."

I watch him walk down the block until he turns the corner, then settle back against the bench.

_Well, the just-friends act didn't last for long, did it._

…_Not that I mind. _

Gokudera comes back and sits down, then hands me something.

"What's this, ice cream?"

"Italian ice. It's similar, but go ahead, try it."

I spoon a little bit into my mouth, shivering as I swallow.

"It's good. I needed some refreshment. It was hot in that club, and it's even worse out here."

"You're telling me. I called the car—is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Great."

We eat our Italian ice, and shortly after we finish, the car pulls up.

We spend most of the ride home making out, to be honest—Gokudera's mouth is sticky and sweet.

I step out of the car onto the driveway.

"Hey, you said we could have dinner here, right?"

"Yeah, you hungry?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"So am I."

We make our way to the kitchen, and Gokudera heads to the fridge.

"I gave them a shopping list earlier, so...okay. I could make us a frozen pizza, if you're cool with that."

"Wow, for a rich guy, you sure don't eat like one."

"Shut up, I eat what I want."

I laugh.

"Yeah, pizza's fine."

He sets the oven to preheat, then walks back over to me. I sit down on the couch.

"So, what should we do while we wait?"

Gokudera smirks and straddles my lap.

"Well, Takeshi, I was definitely enjoying what we were doing earlier, and with you being so fuckin' confident tonight..."

He leans in and gently bites my lower lip, teasing, then kissing me. My hands slide up his thighs, then over his back pockets as I grope his ass.

"Oh, right, that reminds me!"

Gokudera gives me a look as I reach into my pocket.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just—" I pull the rings out of my pocket and hand them to him. "I almost forgot that I bought these for you earlier."

"Oh, thanks, Takeshi... I really like them." He smiles at me and kisses me again, softly this time. "I really do."

I watch as he slides the rings onto his fingers.

"They didn't cost much, I just saw them and I thought you'd like 'em."

"And I do, honestly, thanks. I don't get gifts very often."

"It's no big deal."

"Well, I still appreciate it."

The oven beeps, and he gets up to put the pizza in.

I stand up, too, and kiss his forehead when he walks back, then kiss down his neck and rub his erection through his jeans with my hand.

"I could take care of this, you know," I murmur into his neck, "because I technically still owe you that blowjob..."

He laughs softly.

"Yes, thank you..."

I get down on my knees and unzip his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for me to free his dick and balls. I kiss, then lick up and down his shaft, gently rubbing his balls at the same time, then lick and suck on the head of his cock, my hands moving to his hips.

His fingers work through my hair, his rings cool against my skull.

I suck harder, my head bobbing as I work up and down his shaft, my teeth trailing against his skin. His breathing becomes more labored, and as I go to fondle his balls again, he ejaculates.

I pull myself up and walk to the sink, then spit and wash my mouth out. Gokudera walks up, zipping up his jeans, and kisses me on the cheek.

"Sorry, I just—"

The oven beeps again, and Gokudera grins.

"It's okay, I get it. Gotta save room for dinner."


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh gosh, it's been so long since I updated this, and I am so sorry. I was wary about returning to this site, but I had a lovely time writing this fic. **Thanks to those who stuck around till the end. :) ****

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><p>...I don't want to open my eyes right now. Not that I'd be seeing anything horrific if I did, but I just want to stay like this for as long as I can. Gokudera's arm is draped across my bare chest, exhaling a gentle stream of air against my shoulder as he breathes softly. Maybe he's awake. Maybe he wants this to last as long as possible, too. I mean, he's the one who didn't go back to his room last night. Not that I wanted him to. We just held each other and kissed, nothing rough like what usually happens between us. And I loved it. I don't know, it's just that ever since that guy called me Gokudera's boyfriend, all my fear of...<em>this<em> just drifted away. Maybe I was just too scared to admit that I wanted something like this before. Too scared to confirm my sexuality, to know for sure that I was different. But now I feel like this is all I need.

I open my eyes and roll onto my side, and Gokudera stares back at me with an almost mischievous smile.

"Hey," he rasps, then coughs as his hand moves to my side, the other sweeping his hair back. His jaws are shadowed by faint stubble, not quite prickly, but just enough to be seen, I note as my hand creeps up to touch his cheek.

"I've never seen you like this before."

"I know, it's gross. I look like a hobo, I sound like cigarettes."

"Well, at least you don't smell like either."

"True." He bites back a yawn. "You could've 'woken up' earlier, you know."

"Yeah, but... I wanted to stay like that for a while."

"It was nice... but we can't stay in bed all day, you know."

He leans in and gives me a peck on the forehead, then sits up, stretches.

"Takeshiiiiii..." He whines, almost in a singsong voice. "Get up..."

I blink hard and sit up, lazily reaching over in an attempt to pull him into my lap. He laughs and fights back with even less effort.

"Stop that, you goof!" He leans back and looks up at me, teasing. "What, you didn't get enough of me last night?"

I grin back at him.

"Oh, was I supposed to be satisfied with just that? I guess I didn't get the memo."

Gokudera rolls his eyes with a laugh before standing up and picking his clothes off the floor.

"I'll be sure to make the message clearer next time, then. So. Take a piss, shower up, I'll meet you for breakfast downstairs?"

"Sounds good," I say as I muster enough energy to block the throw pillow he tosses at my head before stepping out the double doors.

The pillow is a deep eggplant that matches the walls almost exactly, the sheets a crème that echoes the color of the trim. A chestnut armoire sits in the corner, but I've elected to stay within the comfort zone of my disaster zone called a suitcase. There's a sliding glass door that opens up to a subtly aging white balcony that matches the house, complete with wrought-iron chair and table. The bathroom in front of me has yet to stop sparkling, its towels accompanying the color motif of the bedroom. I can't say I was entirely wrong in my assuming that the house was a hotel.

Right then. Waking up it is.

A cool breeze passes over me from an unseen vent as I head towards the bathroom. Shimmying out of my boxers, I slide into the shower and convulse in the frigid water before it changes to a milder temperature.

It's interesting to think about, how I can soap myself up without a second thought in the shower, but it's an entirely different thing when Gokudera touches me, whether clothes are on or not. Hell, I never really thought of guys in a sexual way before he came around. Then again, I never really thought of girls that way, either. It's always just been so..._natural_ around him. I can't explain it, but hey, it's not like I'm complaining. It just makes me wonder what's going to become of us. Of what could happen.

Turning off the water, I start to reach for a towel before first taking a slight detour to the toilet. I flush and grab the towel, quickly drying my hair and body off and picking clothes out of my suitcase as I head back into the bedroom. I notice the yellowed baseball peeking out from underneath the mess of wrinkled clothing and pause to pick it up, its fabric hardened, yet still somehow smooth under my fingers.

Not sure why I brought the thing. Habit, I guess.

I drop it onto my bed and finish dressing, then head down the few flights of stairs, my bare feet muffled by the carpeting. Gokudera's sitting at the table in a light Henley and jean shorts that reach his knees, waiting for me over our now-standard breakfast of rice, eggs, and assorted fresh fruits. I'm still kicking myself for being a casual dresser—the nicest clothes in my suitcase are a polo and khakis, and they have yet to be worn. At least he's attempted to dress down today.

"So, what's the game plan?"

"Mm, I was thinking about just staying here today, since we've been out almost every day doing something these past two weeks."

Gokudera picks up his chopsticks and pops a watermelon cube into his mouth. I follow suit with my bowl of rice.

"Damn, has it been two weeks already?"

"Apparently. We're flying home the day after tomorrow. So, I mean, we could always try to go somewhere today, if you want to sneak in one last adventure."

"No, I think I'm—well, I guess something has been on my mind..."

"Oh, yeah? What is it?"

"Well, I don't know, it's dumb, but..." I rest an elbow on the table, my gaze drifting away from his to look into the sunroom across from us. "Are we going to, uh, have sex?"

I manage a glance back at him, and I bite back a laugh as I watch him fail to keep a calm expression, eyebrows raised uncharacteristically high, lips twitching between a sort of grimace and an almost exasperated grin.

I allow myself a smirk. "Sorry, was that unexpected?"

"Are you fucking with me, or...?"

"No, man, it's a legitimate question. I mean, from how things have been going with us, I figure it'll happen eventually, right? So why not do it here, where it's at least more private and comfortable than back in Japan?"

"Um. Okay."

"...do you not want to have sex with me? I mean, you're the one who kinda started all of this, so I just thought..."

"No, I want to. Not that that was why I started this, but, yeah, it's cool. I just really wasn't expecting you to ask, y'know, after what happened."

"Dude, it's been forgiven. Old news. Okay?"

"Okay."

A silence enters the room, filling the space between us as we finish eating, the back-and-forth glances and noises of plastic scraping against plastic doing nothing to alleviate the awkwardness of the moment.

Gokudera sets his chopsticks down, and I grab at his wrist as he walks past.

"Look, it's not like I'm dying to get into your pants, I just—"

"Don't worry about it, Takeshi, I understand. I'm actually glad you asked."

He leans down and kisses my hair. "I have to go on a quick errand, but I think you'll be able to entertain yourself when I'm gone, yeah?"

"Yeah. See you later." He leaves me sitting at the table to finish my meal, accompanied by the chirping of birds outside.

I drop the dishes into the sink, then lean against the counter.

Yeah, I could entertain myself, if I knew what to do...

Resigned, I start heading upstairs to my room but stop at the landing, noticing that the stairs keep going up. I hesitate at first, but hey, it's not like Gokudera said that anything was off limits, so I keep going up. The hallway is initially dark at first, but lightens up as I continue walking, ending as it opens up into a room walled entirely by windows. A few chaise lounges are scattered around the room, surrounding a kidney-shaped pool, its water a shade of almost-too-blue.

But wait, wasn't there— I dash to the left wall and peer down, catching another sparkle of blue outside. Damn.

I settle back with my hands in pockets, gazing out past the pool at the tall golden grasses and clumps of skinny trees in the distance. I spot a city peeking out from behind a gradually sloping hill, but not much else. Across the room, you can see skyscrapers and cities not too far away. The house almost seems to be trapped between the urban and the rural parts of the country.

No, not trapped. More like it's balanced instead.

I head down to my bedroom to change into swim trunks, finding and following a stone path out to the pool. The path is surrounded by all sorts of flowers, some whose names my mother might not even know. I spot a trail of ivy attempting to crawl up of the ivory of the house, and it makes me smile. If it succeeds, maybe the house will be a little less blinding in the sunlight.

The pool looks a little bland next to the house, simply a rectangle of sparkling turquoise, but it's not unpleasant. I toss my shirt onto one of the chairs and jog over to the diving board, clambering up the ladder. The board is rough, dry—at least I know I won't slip off easily, I think to myself as I vault down the board and into the water. The temperature is more refreshing than cold It must be fifteen, sixteen feet, maybe deeper, as the bottom seems just a little bit beyond reachable without extra effort. The chlorine stings my eyes as I head up to the surface, but it's not too bad.

I go on the diving board again and again till I lose count of how many I've climbed the ladder, but I like routine of it all, this burst of purposeful exercise after relaxing for so long. It's comforting, in a way. As I step up onto the board for another jump, Gokudera sits down on the chair next to where my shirt is laying. I dive and resurface in the shallow end, climbing out and sitting next to him, moving my shirt to the back of the lounge.

"You can go back in the water, y'know."

"It's fine, I was started to get tired. And it's nice out—I might as well air-dry."

"Fine by me."

Gokudera kicks off his boaters and drapes his Henley over the back of his chair. "You do that, and I'll try to even out my tan."

"Sounds good."

Closing my eyes, I lean back against the chair, the warm orange glow of the sunlight under my eyelids lulling me to sleep.

Up, and down. Up, and down. The ball smacks into my palm in the darkened room, and I hold it for a moment, then set it down on the sheets.

9:02.

I get up, running my fingers across the wall as I walk down the hallway, stopping as they touch wood. Gokudera stands up as I open the door. The light from his bedside lamp is almost a shock from the darkness of the hallway, but it also manages to calm the bit of twisted nervousness in my stomach. His room is the same as mine, except everything seems to be a little bit bigger.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"So, we're doing this."

"That's what it seems like."

"Alright. Just one question, first—how much do you know about anal sex?"

I feel my cheeks start to flush.

"Uh, just that it's when a guy puts his dick in another guy's ass, really."

He laughs softly and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear.

"Don't be embarrassed. I probably wouldn't know much else about it if I didn't explore Google when I was thirteen."

Great. I suggest this and I don't know anything about it. Way to go, Takeshi.

"Sorry, I—"

"Don't worry about it. Is it okay if I just explain some stuff for a while?"

I nod.

"Cool. First of all, most people think, of it as just 'gay sex', but straight people can also have anal sex, if they want to. The difference is that guys have prostates, and that makes the whole thing, well, feel better than if you were a girl taking part. It's good to use a condom to prevent infections and stuff like that, and you can have sex face to face. Oh, and there aren't always clear-cut roles of who is 'top' and 'bottom'—positions can be switched whenever. Does all of that make sense?"

"Yeah, it actually clears some stuff up. So, uh, thanks."

"No problem. But, pertaining to that last part...would it be okay if I topped you tonight? Not that I don't trust you, nor am I trying to threaten your manhood or anything, but I think I'm a little less confused than you right now, and—"

"No, that's okay. I wasn't sure who was going to do what, so I'm glad you thought ahead."

He nods and reaches for my hand, gently tugging me over to the bed. I sit down, and he leans forward, fingernails trailing over my chest as he pulls my shirt up and over my head. Closing our eyes as we kiss, his hand slides around to the back of my neck, the other fumbling with the button of my fly.

"Damn thing," he laughs softly as he presses his forehead against mine, glancing down and using both hands to undo my shorts. Pulling them down to my thighs, he draws my penis out of my boxers and massages it with one hand. His right moves to my back and his lips to my neck, the rings on his fingers pressing into bone and flesh.

I grow hard in his hand as his kisses move down my chest, and my hands move to his crotch, finding a bulge straining against his own shorts.

He pulls away, grinning out of the side of his mouth. We slide out of our clothing and then closer to the pillows, his fingertips resting on my thighs, mine on the small of his back.

"What now?"

Gokudera leans over and snatches two things from his nightstand, then settles back. I pull myself up onto my elbows.

He holds up a small green square, "Condom, of course," and then what looks like a small tube of toothpaste. "and this is lube. Makes the whole operation go smoother, less painful, stuff like that."

"Okay."

He unscrews the cap and squeezes some of it onto his fingertip.

"I'm going to put my finger inside you now, okay?"

His eyes lock onto mine. I swallow.

"Okay."

Slowly, he slides his finger into my asshole, smearing the gel around inside me.

It makes me squirm.

He laughs softly, sliding his finger further inside me.

"Feel weird?"

"If that's what having a finger inside your ass feels like, then yeah. Also, it tickles, in a way."

"Well then."

"Whoa. Hold up. Press there."

"Here?"

"No, a, little—_yes_. Oh, _damn_, that feels nice..."

"I'll keep that in mind, then."

He keeps his finger there for a moment, then pulls out and goes to the bathroom quickly to wash his hand.

He hops back onto the bed and opens the condom, gingerly pulling it on, then begins to slather his now-pale green erection with lube.

"Better to have more than not enough, right? I don't want to hurt you more than what's to be expected."

"How bad can it get?"

"I've read about stuff getting ripped...but that's a worst-case scenario. You'll ache afterwards, and you might bleed, but I'll try my hardest to keep you comfortable, I promise."

"...thanks, Gokudera."

"No problem. Okay, looks like we're all set."

His palms are slick as he places them on my hips.

"You ready?"

"I think so."

"Okay, try to relax..."

"_Ow._"

"Sorry, I needed a little force to get inside. It won't be as bad after this."

"I hope so..."

He presses close, my erection against his stomach.

"How's it feel?"

"Uh, large, I guess. Doesn't hurt too much, it's more of a dull pain. And you?"

"My dick feels like it's being squeezed."

I grin up at him.

"Well, it's a muscle, isn't it?"

"Suppose so. Just don't clench up on purpose."

He leans in closer, his breath a bit more labored than before.

"Hey, watch it, will you?"

I attempt to dodge the swinging pendant on his necklace, but it strikes my jaw again.

"Oh, my bad. If you could reach up and untie it..."

Noticing my arms lying still at my sides, I lift my hands and untie the knot, dropping the pendulous object down onto my chest. My fingers work their way into his hair, and our eyes meet for a moment, his moving closer to mine again as he pushes in further.

"Hey, Gokudera, you found the spot again."

"I did? Right...here?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"Sweet."

I close my eyes and focus on the warmth I feel in my stomach and my back, relaxing and letting a noise escape from the depths of my throat.

"Shut up."

That bastard, I can feel him smirking.

"Not making fun, babe. In fact, it's more of a self-esteem boost, if anything..."

We both make a little more noise until I come with a shudder, dribbling down my shaft and onto my stomach. He inhales sharply, and I feel a little more warmth near my back.

"Nice timing."

His hands return to my hips, and he carefully extracts himself, then heads to the bathroom. I start to sit up, but he tosses a damp washcloth to me before I can finish.

"Thanks," I say as I wipe across my hips.

We pass each other as I set the towel down in the bathroom. The room plunged into near darkness as he turns the lamp off, but then I see his lighter flicker as he heads out to the balcony. I follow him, leaning against the milky railing as he lights a cigarette. We stand and watch the illuminated city from our perch in silence.

I inhale, letting the smoke fill my lungs briefly.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"I have to know—what are we, exactly? Boyfriends? Like, am I supposed to call you Hayato now? Should I tell you that I love you?"

"Do you?"

He turns toward me, blue-grey tendrils floating from the cigarette in his fingers. I can't quite make out the look in his eye, even with the moon's help.

"I know that I like being around you, and that I'm attracted to you, but I can't quite say if it's love or not."

"Well, if I had to describe the way I feel about you, I'd probably say the same thing, Takeshi."

"I know I can't just be a friend after this, not a friend with benefits, either. My ass hurts, and it was lovely and awkward and I don't regret what we did. But I won't be able to look at you as just 'some guy' tomorrow."

"Well, if it's the case, go ahead and look at me as your boyfriend, then."

He leans in and kisses me, pulling away when we're just shy of running out of air.

"And I'll look at you as mine, okay?"

Our fingers intertwine, his rings cool against my bare ones.

"Please. It's not like you were ever going to share me in the first place."


End file.
